Chapter Six
Which Includes a Wild Encounter
Rest day dawned bright—and cold. Mitch had stayed in the village at his actual lodgings for most of the week. Now that the three days of the full moon had passed, he could choose when to turn. Frost lurked in the shadows as he stalked toward their meeting spot.
His foul mood had little to do with being forced to play guide (though that rankled, as well) and everything to do with his continued failure.
How blasted hard was it to find a single job outside of this forsaken village?
! All he wanted was a simple caravan guard position.
That would get him far away from here and in a better place to find something else.
But every caravan traveling anywhere near Boschivo already had a full complement of guards, and none were willing to risk an unknown.
The right word from Barone would solve that issue.
But that selfish pig kept coming up with excuses for why he couldn’t do that yet.
Mitch had only officially been in the man’s employ for a simple protective detail for a week-long journey.
A job that should have ended months ago, if the mayor of Boschivo would stop dragging his feet and making up extra tasks—like guard duty at a dance, of all things.
He also couldn’t seek employment in the bigger town by Granny thanks to Barone.
Due to an intense rivalry with some bigwig over there, neither man would hire anyone associated with the other.
Mitch didn’t even know the bigwig’s name, but a couple of his gang members had recognized him as “one of Barone’s thugs” during the brief time he had lingered to buy food for Tasia.
If winter wasn’t looming, he would be giving serious consideration to striking out in his wolf form until he was far from here.
“Is that frown for me?” a sweet voice interrupted his black thoughts.
“Huh?” Mitch looked up from the patch of frost he had been watching slowly melt in the sun. “No.”
Tasia beamed at him. “Good! That would be a lousy way to start our time together.”
He blinked at her. Somehow, the passage of a week had dulled his memory of her brightness.
“Are you ready to go?”
With no other response but the obvious one, Mitch nodded and began walking into the woods.
A serene silence reigned for a whole two minutes.
Then Mitch was treated to a running commentary on Tasia’s every thought about every.
Single. Seasonal change. Yes, he had noticed the vibrant colors adorning half of the trees.
No, he didn’t wonder why some of them were already leafless when others were still mostly green.
And yes (again), he did see that dryad off in the distance, but it was rude to point.
Mitch didn’t realize he had been answering her yes and no questions until he caught her tiny smirk with his last answer. After that, he resolved not to fall into any more traps. Tasia continued verbally enjoying their walk in spite of his asocial grunting.
The sun continued to be plenty warm, but a cool breeze blew more often than not.
Mitch had added an extra layer and was therefore quite comfortable.
He flicked a glance at his companion. She wore a shawl that he didn’t remember from before.
It was probably sufficient for today, but he hoped she had something more substantial in the weeks to come.
“Oh! We’re here already,” Tasia remarked. “I didn’t realize. Be right back!”
Slipping behind a large trunk, Mitch watched her skip up the path to the cottage. The handoff was no faster than last time, and the two women exchanged more words this time before Tasia said goodbye. Not eager to stick around, he began walking as soon as she could see him.
“Just a minute, please. I want to try this on.”
Mitch turned around to see red material swirl, then settle onto the slim girl’s shoulders. As she pulled up the hood, a pained wheeze escaped him.
“Goodness! This is much warmer.”
He spun on his heel and marched deeper into the woods, trying to outrun the memories threatening his peace.
Just because she was wearing a red, hooded cape did not make Tasia like .
. . that other girl. Mitch wasn’t going to let Tasia in, so he had no reason to worry.
This bodyguard role was nothing like last time.
Her footsteps soon hurried after him, and a little while later, Tasia returned to her babble.
The first few minutes were devoted to testing out how her new cape twirled and sharing the results aloud.
Then she moved on to discussing the fashion differences she had noticed between Diomland and Bavenpier.
For all his extensive travel, Mitch had yet to visit the small country composed solely of city buildings.
He let himself cogitate on the possibility of finding work there; it helped distract him.
While thugs, guards, and other mercenary-type jobs were surely available in abundance with that many people living close together, he hated the idea of that many people living close together.
The inconvenience of a full moon also happened in the city with the same frequency it did on the rest of the continent.
“Are you ready for lunch?” Tasia’s question pulled him from his thoughts.
He turned to look at her. The woman’s smile was a sweet invitation as she gestured to the open space next to their path and held out a parcel.
“Uh—sure?”
“Did you mean to make that a question?” she teased.
Mitch cleared his throat and tried again. “Please. And thank you.”
He sat down in the dying grass not far from the knee-height rock Tasia was perched upon. She passed him a comfortable offering of bread and cheese. The pair ate in companionable silence, enjoying the simple fare as they soaked up the autumn sunlight.
Clapping her hands on her knees once, Tasia stood and nodded. “I’m ready!” she announced.
Having finished sooner than she did, Mitch was perfectly ready to continue. He pulled up short when he felt her hand on his sleeve.
“May I try leading this time?” Wide, hopeful eyes peered into his. “I think I know this part.”
He shrugged and gestured for her to go ahead. Tasia snatched her basket and bounded onto the path.
Apart from needing to give directions like “right,” “left,” or “your other left,” walking behind Tasia wasn’t any harder than being in front.
Even with the constant need to redirect, in some ways it was easier, because she was so focused on not leading them astray that she wasn’t rambling. It didn’t take much longer, either.
“Wait!” Tasia raised one hand as she paused. “I know this part. Behind these bushes is the log bridge.”
Despite the triumph in her words, Mitch heard the hint of uncertainty. He felt the irrational need to soothe that. “Correct.”
“Yay!” She clapped her hands together, then forged ahead while smiling over her shoulder at him.
She immediately dropped from sight. Heart in his throat, Mitch dashed forward to find her on her hands and knees in the stream. She had missed the log and stumbled badly.
“Are you hurt?” he asked as he splashed in and helped her rise.
Tasia sighed as she looked at her wet knees and boots. “I’m fine. It isn’t very deep.” She shook water off her hands.
“But it is full of rocks,” Mitch pointed out.
A half-smile graced her face as she made eye contact. “I might find a couple bruises later, but I am perfectly capable of finishing the trip.”
He nodded reluctantly and led her out of the water on the other side, ignoring the log. After watching her wring out the bottom of her dress and cloak, he finally started again when she gave him a rather pointed look.
It only took about ten minutes of walking before Mitch heard the slight whimper he had been waiting for. Peering over his shoulder, he saw Tasia stepping ever so gingerly as she tried to prevent her wet socks and boots from rubbing her feet wrong.
“Shoes off,” he ordered.
Tasia frowned at him for just a moment, then plopped down in the middle of the leaf-strewn path to comply.
He picked up her boots and held them upside-down to give them a good shake.
Then he tucked them into her basket while she twisted water out of her socks.
After she added them to the basket, he faced away from her and squatted down.
“Climb on.”
Her squeak of surprise made him smirk. “I can’t make you carry me!”
“You don’t have callouses. It will be much faster if we aren’t stopping to remove rocks and splinters from your feet over and over again.”
“Oh. That’s a good point.” She took a deep breath, then warned, “Here I come.”
Carrying Tasia was a simple task, strength-wise.
At first, she gripped his shoulders with her hands and held her body as far from him as she could.
Then she forgot whatever was inhibiting her and relaxed.
The last quarter-hour of the trip was more difficult because she kept neglecting her position and leaning out to point at whatever tickled her fancy.
At the rendezvous spot, Tasia retrieved her basket with multiple expressions of gratitude. Mitch left her struggling into her wet footwear and made his escape. Being that close to her had done weird things to his emotions. He needed space to recenter himself.
The following week transpired much like the prior one had, with the addition of a nasty windstorm that prevented Pagona’s friends from descending on the Galanis household for two days.
Stavros eschewed his usual duties in order to help the neighbors clean up the tree debris.
No homes were damaged by the storm, but the walking paths and kitchen gardens sported broken branches, multitudinous twigs, and soggy leaves in abundance.